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Edition 2 on the left, Classic on the Right

I was one of the lucky ones. My husband ordered the new Bullet Journal for my Christmas present, and I couldn’t wait to use it. (Though I actually did have to wait because shipping was delayed for a month.) Still, I was fortunate to be getting one at all — the Edition 2 has been sold out since December.

For those of you eager to get the latest and greatest version, this article may help to ease your FOMO.

Though the new edition is beautiful and very well-made, it has a couple of serious flaws that make it not as…


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Photo by Bill Oxford on Unsplash

I love to eat. I like the way food fills me, comforts me, grounds me. When I’m hungry, I feel lighter than air, and I can’t seem to focus. When full, I’m so grounded I sink into myself; I can finally be still and relax.

I also don’t have much time. I work full-time, am a mom to two boys, and have significant community obligations. Plus, I spend time with my widowed mom, go to church, and keep the household running. …


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Photo by Zbynek Burival on Unsplash

We are in this place again, where it’s just you and me, and time stands still. It’s TS Eliot, and footfalls, and Zefferelli’s love song, and I want to know: Will I ever be loved as deeply as I desire be loved? This longing; it breaks my heart. Can I live in the world like this, half-cracked, oozing? I think, put Humpty Dumpty back together again. Put me back together again. And so I do. Tears wiped and gone. A coating of makeup on the face. I straighten my dress. But no!

I want to lie in the meadow with…


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Photo by frank mckenna on Unsplash

I run my fingers through your freshly clipped hair, smell the freshness of you, right out of the shower. I reach for you, but you slip away, headed towards something else that catches your interest. I have to leave to go to work, so I let you go. All day, though, the clean smell of you stays with me, and your soft, short hair. …


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Photo by Steve Smith on Unsplash

Greyblue herons squawk their call as they glide over suburban rooftops

My dog chases them up and back over asphalt, underneath their thin shadows

The sun, in late summer, is relentless as usual, except, well

Today there was a hint of a breeze, a whisper of autumn to come.

Still hot, soaking, but the lightest of touches, a feather of wind

And I knew the seasons were turning and summer was passing by.

Today, the sixth unexpected bill came and I crumpled.

It knocked me onto my side, I gasped for breath.

The weight of debt oppressive and relentless,

But…


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I was numb, I was dead, I was free-falling And I knew you were there but I didn’t feel it And I believed it would all be ok, but I didn’t know it And I called my sister, my touchstone, and she said That shit sucks. Yeah. And suddenly I was back in my body and I was driving Driving to pick up my kid from school. And it was an ordinary day again And it this thing that happened wasn’t death or destruction It was just a shitty thing. That’s all Well, I can cope with shitty things. My…


Here’s a little opener I used in my master’s class to show the powerful relationship between beliefs and emotions, a topic I’m wrestling with for the International Handbook of Research on Teachers’ Beliefs chapter that I wrote in 2015.

First, I have students watch the video (see below) without explanation, just telling them that its title is Varuo, and they are to write down what emotions they feel while watching the video.

Then, I tell them that Varuo means “Warning” in Icelandic, and I show them the final minute of the video of the again, asking them to note…


This post may be controversial. Even to me, it has a faint hint of elitism in it, which is often found in writings about gifted education. I think it’s because of the anti-intellectual environment that pervades our culture. If I was writing about athletic talent, I don’t think there would be near the controversy. Still, note that I write to reflect my current reasoning, to highlight my own conceptual change on a topic dear to my heart. Like my beloved Neil Postman, however, I reserve the right to change my mind :-)

As a child development specialist, I love Montessori…


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In re-reading through my stack of mathematics education journal articles for a paper I’m writing, I came across this quote in the wonderful chapter by Philipp (2007):

“How do mathematics educators change teachers’ beliefs by providing practice-based evidence if teachers cannot see what they do not already believe?” (p. 309)

That is THE paradox of conceptual change, and it’s why I am so fascinated by the initial, unconscious coding of stimuli (along the lines of Gladwell’s Blink) that marks a phenomenon as worthy of attention. Such initial coding is often marked by a general affective valence of positive/negative. Not surprisingly…

Michele Gill

Educational psychologist; school reformer. Writer of essays and prose pieces (that secretly want to be poems). https://www.michelegregoiregill.com/

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